


Bloody Dreams

by expiredbruise



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst, Blood, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Night Terrors, Nightmare, Vomiting, stitches mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-26 23:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14413062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/expiredbruise/pseuds/expiredbruise
Summary: Virgil has night terrors. But this night, his terror goes far beyond it has ever gone before. At least Logan always knows the right things to do and say.





	Bloody Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> god, this is really the most disgusting thing I've ever brought to this damned earth. read at your own risk, kiddies.

Seeping in through the walls, dribbling from the roof, it's there. Red is outside the windows, the disturbing swishing noise keeping Virgil on his toes. He hears, sees the glass cracking. Knocks at his door, but he knows it's not Roman, or Logan, or even Patton. It's  _him_ . And if he opens the door, all the blood will rush in. He'll drown, oh god, he'll drown. He's gonna die, he's gonna die, die, die, drown, drown, he's drowning, he's drowning. 

"Virgil..." The calls are distant, muffled. He can't feel his face or...anything. "Virgil." The voice is a little steadier. Now the blood was running through his hair. Around his ears. In his nose. "Verge." In his mouth, he tastes copper. The blood, it's everywhere. Everywhere.

 

"Virgil!" Virgil jerks up off the bed and looks at Logan with fear in his eyes.

 

He's choking, somethings running down his chin. "Logan, Lo, we gotta go. It's coming, no no no no-" Logan clasped his hand on Virgil's shoulder.

He wiped his thumb across Virgil's chin, getting blood on his hand in the process. "Whatever you're referring to is just a dream. Or, nightmare, per say." Virgil's breath was still coming out uneven and heavy, a scare away from a panic attack. "Here, let's get you cleaned up. Come here," Virgil let out a sob and let the blood from his bitten tongue dribble down his chin and on his night shirt.

He was led by his boyfriend into the bathroom. Logan flipped on the light and Virgil sat on the closed toilet. “I’m going to wipe your face, is that okay? Are you okay with me touching you?” Virgil hesitated, by nodded nonetheless. “Really, is this okay?” Logan crouched in front of Virgil with a warm and wet white wash cloth. Virgil nodded with more confidence. “Alright, can you take off your shirt, babe?” Logan stared with only concern in his eyes. A shiver ran down Virgil’s back as he pulled off his T-shirt. “Thank you,” Logan said. Then, he began wiping.

The cloth started at Virgil’s collarbone. There wasn’t much blood there, only a stray drop or two since the majority was in his mouth, on his face, and on his shirt. The rag slid up his neck and gently scrubbed at Virgil’s chin. Then, up to his mouth. That’s where Logan asked Virgil to stand up. He opened the toilet seat and patted a space for Virgil to sit down on the floor. Virgil complied, sitting in front of the toilet. “Can you spit out the blood for me, Virge?” Virgil let out a shaky breath with his nose, then it all came out.

 

All the blood, last nights Chinese takeout, the cup of water he had before bed, all of it. Virgil sobbed while vomiting, Logan rubbing his back and whispering reassurance into his ears. It lasted a while, and after he was done, Virgil sat above the bowl crying. It was done. He was done. But he didn’t think he was okay.

“Virgil, could I see your tongue?” Virgil tensed up and gripped his pant leg, but slowly slid his tongue out of his mouth after a few seconds. He heard Logan mumble ‘stitches’ somewhere in his conversation with himself, and let out another cry of discomfort. Even though he had a hole almost halfway through his tongue, the churning in his stomach hurt the most.

Logan helped Virgil to his feet and took them back to the room. “I promise I’ll be right back, okay? I’m going to get you some ice and water.” Virgil nodded and sat alone in the dark. He counted every second by himself. In the dark. Dark. Dark. Dark Red. Red. Blood. There’s blood-

But the blood was never there. It was only Logan. Logan, who tucked him into bed. Logan, who turned on The Black Caldron for the two of them to watch. Logan, who gave him water to gulp down, and ice for his tongue. Logan, who cuddled up next to him and stroked his hair. Logan, his Logan, and only his.

 

Yeah. He wasn’t okay. But Logan made it a hell of a lot better.


End file.
